As Cold As Dead Flesh
by FACELESSWRITER11
Summary: His skin was far from warm, cold against mine. I sometimes wished for it to be blushed and warm, but then realized the sacrifice I'd have to make. Short One Shot, Enjoy XXX. Rated T For Slight Yaoi.


**It's late, and I've been having a PT festival.**

**I have noticed that people are rather against the idea of Fakir/Mytho. I can understand them but I am a Yaoi writer, and when I see Bromance Canon I act. And Fakir caressing his face was a hint but when he hugged him on the bridge it turned into a canon.**

**Enjoy it my children.**

**Princess Tutu belongs to Ikuko Itoh.**

**XXX**

I think there is a piece of him, buried within me, driving me to do all these acts of heartlessness I commit. His red twin would caress my face with those nimble fingers that lifted his partner to her feet and tell me that I was his, and he was mine.  
That nobody should be able to take him away from me.  
That I should protect him, with any methods necessary.  
Rue, that pitiful raven, trying to take my Prince away. Her greasy feathers grasping him in a grip tighter than the breath he constantly holds.  
The rope we're bound by stretches when he's with her.

Then there is Tutu, another bug I wish I could crush, trying with all her might to do what she thinks it right.

But what she thinks is right, is wrong.  
Now he has these disgusting excuses for feelings, he wants to break this bond between us. Tear it softly and leave it blowing gently in the breeze.  
Leave me dangling on my noose.  
No! I stumble slightly on my feet, the thought is terrifying. I have always known to be the master, it is a job I own with pride over this rare specimen.

I have to protect him from both beautiful woman, luring him in with glass promises.

I'm his only hope.

Speak of the white haired angel, the door hitched softly and a white silhouette enters through the door.  
His clothes hold nothing close to a crinkle and his skin remains as white as snow. Every time I see him I still get that thought that I'm looking at a picture, a being too perfect to exist. Then again, that's what he was. A fairytale Prince, perfectly emotionless.

Or so he was.

"Where were you?" I inquire, hitting him with the words bluntly.  
"I... went out to the park" He says in his constant dream like state. His lips, like falling rose petals, each word coming out with such grace and beauty.  
"With who?" I ask, walking towards him. He doesn't move, just stares off into the distance like a perfect portrait.  
"With Rue"  
The name sets fire in my stomach, I try and keep my anger at bay but the trickster raven gets to me once more.  
"I told you not to see her. Why did you see her, and disobey me?"  
Now I stand next to him, my height makes me tower over him slightly. He stares at me now with those eyes. Like pools of gold, they are idyllic. I could lose myself in them, until I realize the same caramel beacons were looking at another, a filthy bird.  
"I promised her I would" He said, no hesitation or fear. Even if he had fear in his heart I still doubt he would show it. Either that or I've been fooled that this is the real Prince and the other is make believe.  
"I couldn't break my promise"  
I grabbed his feeble frame and pushed it against the wall, a silence dawning after his back hit the wall.

He deserved being punished, he broke rules I set out for him. I was protecting a child from the idea of death, yet the closer I held him the closer he got to the truth. Why was that?  
"You made a promise to me! To obey me, if you are able to keep a promise with Rue then why not me?"

"Because..."  
He was so cute, the only thing I liked about these emotions is these little acts of normality he'd picked up. Looking away from he to the very right corner to avoid my eye.  
"You have no reason do you? To pick her over me! You are mine and only mine, remember that next time you make a promise, got that?"  
"Yes, Fakir"  
Although his promise was simply vocal, I wanted more. My lips suddenly found his snow white neck and bit down, gentle at first but suddenly harsh.  
He gasped and I could feel him tremble, but I didn't care.  
Rather I pretended I didn't care.

It was an instinct I'd left some time ago, however wrong it was I couldn't keep away from him. I had to touch him, in a way that no-one else could.

He was my property at times like this.

His skin tasted of fresh bed sheets, tasteless petals and the cold sensation of dead flesh to live lips.  
From the first taste, I was always addicted.  
I held him upright and pushed him harder against the wall, thin legs unable to hold himself up. Unable to escape this past writer, invading his mind like so many had tried to. My bitter kisses reined his neck and moved to cupid's lips, plump and ready.

It was far from romantic for Mytho, it was just like touching his shoulder or slapping his face. The kiss for me was heart filled, one sided, but amazing.  
Slightly probing at his lips with an eager tongue, running them once over pearl teeth before retreating.  
Mytho looked at me curiously, I'd kissed him before but I'd never explained what it was to him.  
It was to stay that way.  
Forever a virgin, in body and spirit.

My hands left his sides, he fell slightly but held himself up, I made my way to the door with a book under my arm and made a demand without turning back to face the Prince.

"Come find me in the library after you are finished here, Mytho. No detours"  
"Yes, Fakir"

I walked out of the room and left, setting off down the hall in a direction unknown to me.  
I just needed to get away from him.  
Would he meet me in the Library? Only a God of this cursed land could know, he could leap into the arms of two Princesses and turn my promise aside once more.  
If so, I would show him again who made his silky white hair and pale white skin.  
Who left the purple bruises hidden under blue and white silk.

I reached the door, and went to stride out of it like a proud man who could show what he owned just by a bitter look.  
But couldn't.  
I leaned against the hard wood, sinking onto my knees and feeling the supports of my amour begin to loosen.  
I hugged myself like I wished Mytho would, knowing he could do that without a heart.  
Yet he didn't want to.

When I told myself I had a piece of him, I lied.  
Just trying to make what I'm doing seem like a good thing, rather than a heartless act of cruelty to keep a lonely prince in my freezing embrace.

**Angst, been a awhile since I've written one sided angst. **

**Enjoy. XXX**


End file.
